


The Bros, Sex Work

by Yandere_Shoujo



Series: FFXV Dreamwidth Prompts [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Multi, Noctis is a pimp prince, Prostitution, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-19 21:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10648563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yandere_Shoujo/pseuds/Yandere_Shoujo
Summary: Gear is getting a lot more expensive and Noctis wont stop smashing the Regalia against rails. Hunts are no longer becoming a viable source of income. The party agrees on raising money another way. Rated for themes.





	The Bros, Sex Work

**Author's Note:**

> Prepare to be disappointed.

Gladio was caught between hating and loving his new part time job. It was decided, after a very, very long discussion, that he’d be stationed in Lestallum.

Hunting wasn’t paying for the Regalia constantly being broken, or the much needed gear. With nothing left to sell, their bodies came as the final resolution. Gladio had been against it. Yes, gods yes, did he love sex. But sticking his face in a stranger’s crotch for half an hour wasn’t his idea of fun, mainly when said stranger smelled of not showering. The upside, at least, was that the women of Lestallum were just his type. A blowjob between two ladies that could compete with the poster girls from his favorite magazine wasn’t that bad, right?

Tank top not doing his chest any favors, he sat in an abandoned plastic chair in an alleyway, playing Solitaire on his phone when someone cleared their throat.

Gladio inwardly groaned.

An older man nervously looked around and waved.

“I-I hear you’re the _Greatsword of Lestallum_ , that right?”

Gladio placed both of his palms over his face, took a deep breath, and smoothed his hair back.

“Yep, all me.”

* * *

Prompto ultimately would do anything and everything for Noctis. Yes, he whined. He cried, screamed, and would be first to suggest nope-ing out. But he’d never turn tail. This ordeal wasn’t any different.

Not killing things was nice after all.

The Cauthess Rest Area was, on any other day, perfect for rest and relaxation. But in the cheap apartment room, Prompto didn’t get much time to just lay out and do nothing. Granted, he was often laid out, but not without having to give his customers what they paid for.

Prompto was exasperated, to say the least, when the second hunter that day knocked on the door. He knew it was a hunter because he wouldn’t open the door unless they rapped “Yes” in Morse code. Flushing out all of his sighs, eye rolling, and  face palming, Prompto undid the lock and greeted the petite woman and burly man at the door.

“Oh you are as cute as they say! Isn’t he honey?” the woman chirped.

Prompto took notice that she was carrying a bag when it started emitting a buzz.

“Oh dear, that thing is always on the fritz. Hope it holds up!”

The man grunted what Prompto guessed was affirmation.

“Yeaaah, hi.” Prompto cleared his throat of any incoming negativity. His selling point was being happy go lucky after all. “Come in! Mind the loveseat if you’re gonna sit.”

By the time Prompto took his time to lock the door and widen his narrowed eyes again, the woman had pulled out an array of shiny shapes.

“Oh, you’re not allergic to latex are you hun? I have PVC and rubber too.” The woman giggled.

This was going to be the longest day ever.

“Nope! Not at all!”

* * *

Ignis carried himself with the dignity of a man privileged to serve the royal family and looked sharp at every single waking, and unconscious, moment. As such, it had been unanimously decided by the others that he be posted at Galdin Quay. The small resort area was no stranger to long term guests and sketchy characters if Dino was to go by. So there he would sit, alone and always at a two person table close to the docks.

Dino was thankfully quiet on the matter. It took a lot of raw ore and rocks, but he’d done Ignis the honor of getting the word out without it being unbearably obvious.

Someone would sit across from him, sign a contract, and they would get to business. Yet in the end, Ignis never failed to get the clients with the messiest of fetishes.

Ignis shuddered as spoonfuls of ice cream was spread over his chest and licked up. Turning away, he’d placed the back of his bare hand over his mouth. He’d be awfully sticky by the time this was over, even more so than usual.

The man over him had an entire array of dishes ordered, all sweets, and took his sweet time arranging them on Ignis’ bare body and eating them off. He resisted the chill of the cold cream in the air conditioned room lest he shudder off all the man’s work. It was his job after all, and he was going to do it right.

At least, he mused, that the food wasn’t going to waste.

* * *

Noctis counted gil by gil of everyone’s combined progress. The others lounged around the outpost’s motel in varying forms of worn out.  Gladio lay face down on the bed, Prompto doing the reverse on the sofa, and Ignis did his best to sit up straight in his chair across from Noctis but was still drooping forward.

“Wow, two weeks and it looks like we’ve got enough to buy a small armory.”

The others looked to Noctis and let out a unified, tired “Yeah…”

“If we kept this up I don’t think we’d have to hunt again.” Noctis used his index finger to shuffle some change around. “I think this is actually enough for a personal boat.”

The group was still stuck on the prince’s initial statement. Never having to hunt again, while being pumped and drained of everything they had, daily.

“Noct, my man.” Prompto sighed. “I think I’d rather go toe to toe with 3 iron giants.”

“The red variety.” Ignis added.

“With 10 imps nipping at us.” Gladio finished.

Noctis raised an eyebrow.  “You mean, you guys _actually_ don’t find this better?”

“No.” was the unified response.


End file.
